Tag Archives: writing

A Civil Discourse on the Nature of Youtube Comments From Haters & Trolls

If you’ve got an on-line presence, you’ve got on-line haters. It’s just a fact of life. But what makes the haters hate and the trolls troll? When I think about what I actually hate (and I’m a relatively sane person without many loaded guns in my basement, on most days), it’s always political: I hate the powers that be that are taking away my rights, hate corporate greed, hate misogyny… But hate someone because they aren’t funny? No. I just feel bad for them. So when someone says you aren’t funny and really goes at it in attack form on your Youtube comments, there’s something under that. It’s just sort of a law of psychology.

People ask me all the time how I can stand the hater comments. They look at me like I’ve got a heart of steel, but that isn’t the case. If a friend or peer who I respect critiques me I take it to heart and listen and think about it. But the haters? Couldn’t care less.

So here’s how to become someone who isn’t really fazed by those comments. Understanding where the hate comes from is the way to loosen its grip on you:

Okay, reason #1: Jealousy. Have you ever watched something and thought there was no reason on god’s green earth they should be famous and making all that money and getting laid like that on a Tuesday night when you are just as funny and living on a 7th floor walk-up in New York and eating nothing but the olives you took home from the company Christmas party? And you really want to tell them so?!! Jealousy. And frustration. Put those together and you’ve got: “This shit isn’t funny! What a fucking loser!!!! I hope she loses all her money and her house.” (Actual quote.)

Hater Reason #2: They just don’t agree with you. See my reason above for my hate. There are very few uber conservative comics out there, so I don’t have many opportunities, though I’m always more fascinated than hateful, but when I do see something misogynistic or gay-bashing it’s rarely funny to me. So when I read, “This dum-ass ugly fat bitch thinks she’s funy and can sing,” (actual quote, actual spelling), I just know they aren’t playing for my team. Or, as in the homophobic, closeted responses to my song about homophobic people being possibly maybe really closeted and gay, I know they got caught in their own trap and can’t stand it. (See Probably Gay). My favorite Youtube comment for that song being, “You are sick. When I watch gay porn, I just think it’s disgusting.” Um, when you watch gay porn?!?! I rest my case.

Reason #3: They wish they were comedians. Oops, back to reason #1…

Reason #4: No one is listening to them in real life and it’s frustrating for them to see audiences laughing and applauding for you. No, wait, that’s also… Dang. I thought this blog would be longer.

Reason #5: You remind them of their ex.

Reason #6: You remind them of their father

Reason #7: You remind them of their inadequate sexual skills?

Reason #8: You do actually suck and you remind them of themselves??? Okay, I’m reaching here but just trying to be fair that it’s possible sometimes we do suck. But again, that’s back to jealousy because if you suck and are successful (which we have all seen) then it’s back to your haters blaming fate and luck that they aren’t also sucky and successful. Powerlessness breeds hate. Like when I can’t remember how to program my DVR and have to ask my husband. It’s all those hate-things wrapped up into one! Powerlessness! Jealousy that he can! Self-hating my own misogyny — for god’s sake am I really a girl who can’t program my goddamn DVR?!?! All wrapped up in one which makes me hate the DVR and the people who created the system. And all the money they made on it. Fuckers.

And finally Reason #8: They are just assholes who hate everything and want to look cooler by saying so. But again, this is probably not a person you would have fun with. Or sex with. Back to square one of insecurity as well as #7. Walking around hating everyone all the time probably would benefit from a good therapist. Or some excellent scotch. Or a blow job occasionally. Just sayin’.

So, there ya go. If people give you useful feedback, use it. If it’s hate, know from whence it cometh and ignore it. Now go back to doing what you do well.

I was sitting in Nora’s living room, four months ago, scarfing down some incredible butter cookies while she made a game-changing phone call that would bump up my career a good five notches. Part Jewish mother, part agent, Nora had invited me over after seeing some of my comedy music videos on Youtube sent by a mutual friend, and here I was being fed, mentored and charmed by a woman I had been impressed with since I was 21 starting with “When Harry Met Sally.”

One of the best at self-deprecating humor, I owe her a lot. A career like mine built on feminism, self-awareness, gender-based comedy and hopefully some brazen pluckiness knows the debt we all share to Nora.

When I got to her apartment, we sat down and she immediately skipped the small talk and went right for the tell-me-how-I-can-help bit. Immediately she knew who to connect me with (my new manager) and where I should bring my show next: to one of New York’s greatest cabarets, Joe’s Pub. But most importantly, she connected me with like-minded funny feminists, helping me create a family in my new-found home of New York.

It’s hard to explain what 30 minutes out of the life of someone like Nora means. There was absolutely nothing in it for her. She liked my work, sure, but more than that, she knew how women have to help each other. Boys still have boys clubs and theatre and film and writing are welcoming to women in lots of ways today, but there are still doors that are closed. She knew this.

When you read her life story (and here’s a good one: http://nyti.ms/LeFral), it’s amazing to see how prolific she was, but the personal edge to everything is what inspires me. “Everything is copy,” she mother, a writer, said, though Nora was careful not to write about her children in as exposing a way as her mother had done with her. It’s a hard balance when you have the over-sharing instinct. My mother, columnist Ellen Goodman, took the kind path and always asked my permission. I fear my son will hate me for a few things I’ve written, though I will certainly deny it was about him. And, okay, I’ll pay for therapy. I’ve started a fund.

In my first lunch with my new manager, we talked about Nora. There were so many things to be impressed by. And I will add into the mix a totally superficial compliment: there is NO reason for that woman to feel bad about her neck. If I look like her at 61 the way she looked at 71, I will be thrilled. But, of course, more importantly, if I am still that damn insightful and funny and — most of all — quick, it will be a miracle.